


Mad Lewd Fuckpet Himari

by impossiblearchitect



Category: Original Work
Genre: Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Magical Girls, Petplay, Science Fantasy, Slightly less lewd, high concept magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:34:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22307251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impossiblearchitect/pseuds/impossiblearchitect
Summary: A look at our protagonists post-canon, applying Himari's calamitous genius to... *somewhat* less ridiculous ends.
Kudos: 19





	Mad Lewd Fuckpet Himari

**Author's Note:**

> Exactly one year ago, the first chapter of Enthusiastic Consent was posted on QQ.
> 
> Somewhat amusingly, that makes EC the single longest project I've ever worked on - both in terms of length and in terms of duration. I imagine that says some rather amusing things about me, but oh well .
> 
> Regardless, I wanted to get the next chapter out by today, to make the anniversary. I nearly made it, too. The chapter itself is barely a hundred words from done; I could probably finish it in an afternoon. Unfortunately, however, that chapter is on a laptop that is now dead -- and while the drive its on is intact and working, it happens to be a fancy modern SSD that I can't actually read.
> 
> The adapter I need to get my damn chapter back will arrive March 1. In the meantime, in the interest of releasing something for the anniversary (and reassuring you all that I'm still alive and still working on this), I rushed out an omake over the last few days.
> 
> Fair warning, it's rather a different tone than the rest of EC -- just for starters, it's a rather silly exploration of semi-practical abuses of Himari's ... Himari-ness, not even really a proper work of pornography, but hopefully it will amuse regardless.

Somewhere in the Arabian desert, there is a sand-worn, run-down building, far from any cities and major highways, where a certain organization holds their living cargo for sale.  
  
The scene inside is, unfortunately, not an uncommon sight here. A man, dressed in unmarked army fatigues, leans against the wall of a closed room, his zipper undone; at his feet, a redhaired beauty on her knees bounces eagerly on his cock, naked save for the jeweled golden piercings dangling from her nipples and clit and a matching golden collar, her breasts bouncing against their chains that pull from her piercings to her collar. Her green eyes are filled with lust and eager submission, as she enthusiastically pulls the man's length down her throat in long, steady strokes, earning from him a steady stream of low grunts and moans.  
  
(It is not clear how enthusiastic she would be, without the layers and layers of conditioning and mental interference spells on her mind. ... Then again, given the person in question, perhaps not.)  
  
Finally, with a surprised grunt from the girl, the man seems to have had enough; he grabs the girl by the back of the head and forces her onto his length, thrusting hard into her mouth as he spurts hot cum down her throat. His eyes widen with his release ...  
  
... and then widen further, as all strength leaves his limbs, a trace of fear entering his eyes before he collapses helplessly to the ground, unconscious.  
  
That seems... distinctly less unordinary. And yet, there is no alarm, at least not yet. The girl has chosen her target well; a sloppy outpost and a sloppy guard, willing to sample their merchandise away from watching eyes, be they man or machine.  
  
The girl doesn't get up immediately. Something about her seems desperate, hungry for more in a way her recent service has only inflamed, she trembles in place, gasping lewdly and suppressing an erotic moan as best she can, her hands wandering helplessly between her legs as she strokes the sensitive insides of her thighs. She wants oh so badly to continue where she left off, force the man erect with magic and mount him into her needy, aching cunt, but it isn't entirely her own will that binds her; she stares instead, her obedience and training warring with the need that same training and remodeling has sunk deep into her bones.  
  
Finally, after several long minutes of internal struggle, her expression shifts, from truly tempted to resigned and mournful, before she shifts closer to the man's... _actual_ head, putting two fingers on his forehead, making a sign with her other hand and muttering a few words under her breath. (A low whimper escapes her throat as the motion tugs on her nipples and breasts, the weight of the piercing pulling at her clit; she closes her eyes for a moment to re-center herself, her hands still wandering around her pussy.) Bent over at waist, knees still against the floor, her butt is shoved into the air, her hips shifting instinctively from side to side -- half in seductive invitation, not that there was anyone around to see, and half as the closest she was allowed to come to playing with herself, the light tugs at her clit bell teasing her gently with sound and sensation.  
  
She had managed to get this far on trickery and a silver tongue; standing perfectly still along the guard's patrol route that just-so-happened to be a surveillance blindspot, with just enough suggestive whiteness trailing from her lower lips, she had managed to convince the guard that somebody else had left one of their 'toys' out of their 'box' after taking one out to play with. (In his defense, there was a certain emptiness to her gaze and her smile that was hard to fake, and any of the _actual_ 'toys' shouldn't have had the free will at this point in their conditioning to come up with an escape plan like this. It was still, in the girl's opinion, incredibly sloppy.) That wouldn't last; getting into the actual compound would almost certainly require actual access to the system, either the computer bits, or the rather more vulnerable human bits.  
  
... _Rather_ more vulnerable; hacking into someone's mental wards was roughly equivalent in difficulty to hacking into a more mundane computer system -- outside of movies and fiction, generally impossible to do on the fly, with zero preparation or intelligence on the system being penetrated. Even for a genius like her, that would be ... _difficult_.  
  
Which is why she'd been throwing hypothetical probes at the guards for the last week, using some of the results from her work on precognition and quantum computing to test some of her hacking tools on their defenses without ever actually running the parts that would actually make contact in reality. It was an utterly unfair approach that let her hack their systems without even once giving them something they could detect, even in theory, save for her simple existence -- and she was doing her experiments at the line-of-sight limit, from a tower in a town miles away -- and she had no idea how she'd defend against it if it were ever used against her; but for now, it was, like most of her work, a solid decade ahead of anyone else in the world, not a concern for a while.  
  
With a remarkably less friendly grin than she'd been servicing the guard with a moment ago, something in his head _click_ ed open to her thoughts, and she pulled her hand free -- and a faded, illusory copy of the man came with it, stuck to her fingers. She placed it feetfirst on the ground, and it came alive, solidifying into a perfect _bunshin_ of the man, an 'illusion' to reality itself that even had the mannerisms and character of the man she'd made it from, save for being entirely under her control. It would break under more pressure than a firm handshake, but she rather thought that wouldn't come up.  
  
Drawing her hands through the air, she drew a leash from its right hand to her golden collar, overlaying and hiding the thin chain that lead from a clip on its front into thin air, as if pulled taut. Then, with a gesture, she set the seal above her mound glowing. For just a moment, the ever present orgasm she spent her life hovering just above fell away, a tangible feeling of _power_ collecting around her as her endless arousal was converted into mana -- and then both faded as she outpaced her conversion, the created mana hidden deep within her soul.  
  
Finally, with a focusing breath, she closed her eyes...  
  
... and when she opened them, her gaze and her smile were as mindless as a doll's.  
  
The puppet-clone left first, leading its controller on a leash, still gently swaying her hips against her teasing piercings as she was walked through the halls. With each step, the heat between her legs grew even as it was joined by the power she held in reserve.  
  
\-------------------  
  
"Man, that redheaded chick was _hot_. Who's she going to?"  
  
"... do you know, I'm not sure? I thought we had buyers for everyone we already collected, but ... actually, I'm not sure I even remember seeing her before today."  
  
There was a pause as both the door guards digested that response.  
  
"Oh, _fuck_ \--"  
  
But by then, the alarm was going off anyway.  
  
\-----------------  
  
Himari giggled.  
  
She had allowed herself to be led (really, leading herself, but she supposed technically speaking the clone was in fact following its own memories and not her own directions) straight through the main gates, through the strongest and densest of their defenses, without so much as a raised eyebrow to mark her passage. (The sensation of her ears popping as she passed that gate was gratifying in a different way; yes, this plan would never have worked if it had had to contend with the 'air-gap' conceptual ward they had put in place around the base proper.) Then on to the slave block, where the real victims of the operation were kept under guarded lock and key. Lost in the underground maze that formed the bulk of the compound, even if they could somehow find remaining in themselves the desire to escape and bypass the chains on their minds and their bodies, they would _still_ find it nearly impossible to make their way to freedom, nor could they be easily rescued by a sting op.  
  
But now that she was here, all of that was meaningless. Her clone greeted the door guards with a nod, pulling her by her leash as she tottered mindlessly close to the door --  
  
\-- slapped it gently with a palm, and felt a portion of her banked power flood into a meter-wide glowing seal holding it shut. No hostages for them~.  
  
There was a moment of stunned silence, as she let her clone lapse -- and then with an oath, the guards set off the alarm.  
  
 _Just as planned_.  
  
With a wave of her hand she conjured a translucent shield in front of her. Snap-cast, with her holding back most of her power, and with almost no finesse, it was almost as delicate as the bubble it looked like, holding for perhaps half a second or a few shots -- but that would be more than enough for her purposes.  
  
And then, actually _trying_ for the very first time since mission start, she pulls all the power she can access, from the endless tantric reactor she's become, into her hand shining like a star; she _focuses_ in on the alarm, and --

\-- the spell leaps across to the alarm less than a second after it was pulled.

Among spells intended to control and influence the movements of large groups of people, there are generally two kinds. Iterated, mass mind control spells, that either explicitly or implicitly apply a discrete control effect on every member within the organizational graph so targeted; and subtler spells, true spells of "organization control" that work on the links between humans, their channels of communication, that act on an organization of people the same way a mind control effect might act on a network of neurons. The former can be easily warded against by the same spells that defend against individual instances of direct control; the latter not so much, requiring that the organization as a whole be warded by spells equally subtle.

But defenses for both exist.

Similarly, among spells intended to control the actions and outputs of a large network of computers, there are two kinds; those that act iteratively on individual computers within the network, and subtler spells that interfere with the protocols by which they communicate. Again, the former is easily prevented without special attention to group control, but the latter requires rather more care.

But again, defenses for both exist.

In simple systems of a single person and a single machine, it is easy to imagine a spell that might take control of the input to that machine, the output displayed to that person. Individual wards against such spells exist and are commonplace in military settings -- even the relatively ramshackle defenses of a criminal organizations.

But to broaden that setting, to imagine a spell that could take control of "a single system of many people and many machines," one would first have to invent a spell that could abstract over the divide between man and machine, a spell of control that could just as easily command the agency of a living human as the administration of a inanimate computer. -- And that is not so easily done. Right from the start, as a mere prerequisite for beginning, one would have to answer the age-old question of 'free will', to put in the same terms the choices of a human mind and the branches of a program's logic, a challenge that --

\-- well, that Himari thought was entirely overblown. She had dissolved the first even _before,_ before she had had the best first-hand glimpse of what it meant to give one's _self_ over to another that could exist on Earth.

So Himari's spell slipped between "the soldiers" and "their network", and ... well, the former were poorly drilled, and poorly disciplined, and in this moment that weakness was a strength, because it meant that she could not give them commands and expect them to obey.

But the latter had no such protection. It was only a potential, only something she had in theory, but -- given time to work, given enough opportunity to corrupt the commands on which their surveillance system was operating... that system would be _hers_.

And the raw _power_ that she forced into the spell took that potential, and with a great hammer-blow grounded it into the present as _real_.

For a single moment, she was entirely free of the haze of arousal that had haunted her every waking second for the last... well, since she'd given herself away; her need and desire drained to power the great spell she had just cast.

And then she took a step backward, her breasts bounced against their chains and her piercings against her clit and nipples even as the simple vibration of that step echoed up between her legs, and she was back to full, panting with need and denied orgasm right in the middle of a firefight.

\-- So much for their control of their cameras, or their automated defenses, or even their blast doors. But there were still the _soldiers_ to deal with, even if she had had the wherewithal now to sit down and code. The bare second between the moment the guards pulled the alarm and their opening fire passed, and the first of many, many bullets flew down the hall towards an entirely inadequate shield --

\-- But.

Their network belonged to her. But _she_ was, in turn, a belonging, Kaida's beloved pet, and that logic wasn't something so easily stopped by an air gap.

And all their wards were computerized.

The very moment her spell succeeded, _Kaida_ owned their systems too. The very moment her spell connected, she was back in contact with her owner.

_All limiters, full release._ "Mad Lewd☆Fuckpet Camellia, make up!" she shouted, purely to see the look on Kaida's face as it dropped into her HUD, and at that moment, everything in the base absolutely ceased to be a threat to her.

Light sprang into being around her arms and legs, wrapping around her hands and feet before condensing into gloves and socks embroidered in Ogham with runes of protection and power. It reached out, gathering around the chains leading between her piercings and collar --

\-- and faded, leaving behind only a strange shine that didn't quite follow the light.

Himari stood in the middle of a crowd of angry (and now rather confused) guards, wearing very slightly more than she had a moment ago: long red felt gloves and thigh-high socks, a golden collar with a ruby centerpiece, and linked golden chains between her three piercings -- and precisely nothing else except perhaps a rather deep blush.

Obviously. She wasn't sure why her owner had been surprised when she had come up with a 'magical girl' outfit that was a hundred percent designed to be erotic and cover precisely nothing of importance, because that had always been her plan from the very moment she had come up with the idea.

Of course, that didn't mean she was _actually_ undefended. From the moment she had triggered the transformation, even before the words had left her mouth, _her_ defenses -- much more advanced than the blunt, crude physical wards that were all that the criminal gang (or indeed, most modern militaries) had access to -- were active. Every bullet they fired, even before it left the gun, was already fading, a physical bullet growing transparent as it flew through the air, reducing to a wireframe and then a hand-drawn diagram as if chalked in midair, annotations and exploded subdiagrams writing themselves onto the air in spidery handwriting. What hit her in the end wasn't a 'bullet' but the 'idea of a bullet' -- the design and concept of each bullet embedding itself in her memory: and while understanding the precise design of every bullet that hit her reinforced a hundred times by the sheer mass of fire was mildly annoying, it was ultimately harmless.

That wasn't the only advantage of this form. Every _geas_ and self-inflicted command was sent into maximum overdrive, her impossible genius propelled to unreal levels by her perfect obedience even as her reflexes and strength were pushed into the realm of the superhuman, the mana cost paid out of her arousal. _That_ in turn was paid for by what she called "super exhibitionist mode": artificially magnifying the shame she felt when someone ogled her naked body, and also magnifying her exhibitionism, so that even a stray thought or flash of humiliation could leave her soaking wet. Together, the spells worked together to create a pyramid scheme of self-augmentation, that would keep her functional and focused during the transformation in return for completely dumping her into an ocean of need when the transformation was released -- which, of course, her owner could do at any moment.

Why, yes, her owner being able to turn her into a desperate, thirsty fucktoy begging for cock at a moment's notice, even in the middle of an operation was an advantage to her mind. Again, she wasn't sure why Kaida was still surprised at this point.

Speaking of which, he had finally got around to responding, giving her a sardonic look. "Aren't you a little old to be a magical girl? -- Also, you realize that since I have to authorize every transformation, you running around in that outfit is at _least_ as embarrassing to me as it is to you?"

Himari smirked. "Says the boy who gets his very own pet magical girl to keep and own and train. Methinks he doth protest too much."

\-- If he were serious, he could phrase it as an order, and she'd submit on the spot, she wouldn't even be able to help herself. That was what made these moments of banter so delicious for her, knowing that even this little shard of resistance existed entirely at her owner's pleasure.

But instead, he just rolled his eyes at her. "Go take out those guards. That defense of yours isn't so cheap as to last forever."

She pouted, but it was true; she could already feel ... well, she was always _clear_ in these moments, the certainty of the _geasa_ keeping her focused, but she could normally still feel the sea of desire that underlaid it, and it was draining fast. Returning her attention to the guards that had only just begun to retreat, covering for each other as best they could as they tried to escape the girl that for all her ridiculous outfit was completely ignoring the attentions of a half-dozen machine guns on full auto. Someone tried lobbing a grenade at her, but that too dissolved into an diagram before it could detonate, the 'concept of creation' not even making it into the back of her mind.

She smiled at them -- gently, almost kindly.

And then she _moved_.

\-----------------------

Several minutes later, Himari was gasping for breath, surrounded by unconscious guards. -- Not, of course, entirely from exhaustion.

" _Pleeeease_ , Master?"

Kaida smirked. "You sure? I think some of those guards are faking it. You really want to let them see you cum?" he teased.

Still under the exhibitionist effects of the transformation, she blushed deeply at the thought, but nodded furiously anyway. "Yes yes yes please, _please?_ "

Her owner put a hand to his chin, mock-thoughtfully. "I'm afraid it isn't safe," he said, fooling precisely nobody. "After all, as long as you can't cum you'll refill your mana every time you move. That's far too much of a combat advantage to give up just for a moment's pleasure, don't you think?"

That would be far more reasonable if it had been the first, third, or even tenth time he'd come up with an excuse like that, or if there'd _actually_ been anyone still conscious in the complex -- which, the branch head and his private guards aside (and they weren't going anywhere), they both knew perfectly well there wasn't, given their complete control of the base's own surveillance. But then again, Himari had only even asked in the first place because she knew how much Kaida loved making up silly reasons to deny her on a whim -- so her answering pout had just the slightest edge of wryness to it.

And then she turned back to the door she'd sealed, dispelling it with a wave, and Kaida ordered it open, letting her in.

\------------------------

Traditionally, the standard method of taking down major organizations like these (especially secret organizations like a mob or a black-ops service) was to track down one of their branch heads, or someone else in a middle management position, and use that as a lever arm to scry -- and in modern days, with decoded Astras, magically scatter -- the entire organization in one fell swoop. But ward technology had finally caught up to scrying in recent years, and the last century had seen a resurgence in major international cartels and mafias like these traffickers, with every member of that organization defended against such easy takedowns.

So when Kaida had insisted that Himari find a way to take down the human traffickers that she had mentioned in her letter, the "easy path" to being treated the way she wanted that compromised on such things as "an actual loving relationship," she had had to devise a subtler method.

  
She'd found inspiration, to the surprise of precisely nobody, among the things she'd done to herself. The insides of the lungs and of the intestines were long known to the medical -- and military -- communities as in-between places, where the human body asserted its dominion without being truly 'inside', an in-between space of claimed territory that was not completely defended by naive wards on the body proper. Spells originating or targeting those spaces could reach around both the body's natural defenses and many standard spells of protection, for good or for ill.  
  
But Himari had, again, possibly more first-hand experience in taking spells up the ass (and washes, and toys, and a laundry list of other things) than... well, at the very least most people likely to be doing formal spell research personally. And she'd realized that some of the spells so designed would work in other, similar liminal spaces -- places and concepts 'claimed' but not truly 'of' some larger group.  
  
Such as, for example, the 'merchandise' claimed by this slaver gang.  
  
\-- "Master. Are you ready?"  
  
Kaida nodded. The soon-to-be-freed slaves -- depressingly many, a solid thirty-two girls of varying ages just in this one complex -- were clustered obediently (well, they didn't really have any other settings anymore) in the center of the room; Kaida, walking in a wide circle around them, had just finished the computerized etching of a large runic diagram around the edges. Just now, he was bending over, filling in the last gap (a large bracket in the circle) with a sheet of tough poster paper.  
  
Himari, in turn, nodded to herself -- then dropped to her knees with as her transformation was pulled out from under her without warning. " _Why_!"  
  
He shrugged, grinning and holding out his other hand, her 'outfit' (such as it was) pulled off her in long streams of light to gather in a growing star in her owner's palm. Whether out of casual teasing or a genuine desire to keep from draining her completely dry in a combat zone, he didn't pull enough from her to overdraw on her tantric reactor, either, instead only pulling just enough for her conditioned mind to register the feeling as pleasure -- leaving her gasping for breath, the lust that had been held back by the mental focus of her combat mode now blanketing her mind and turning her legs to jelly, staring up at her master as mindlessly as any of the other toys in the room.  
  
And then, clenching his fist around the orb of power, he slammed his hand down on the paper --  
  
\-- _"Imuru."_  
  
\-- and the circle lit up with light.  
  
Instantly the paper, in turn, lit up with glowing ink, thirty-two dots for thirty-two targets in the circle. And then they multiplied, scattering themselves seemingly at random along the bottom of the page -- ten in a cluster here, twenty-eight in a cluster there, rushing over the poster paper in an instant. _There must be thousands,_ he thought, and then, with a grimace, _only thousands._  
  
But that was fine. They had brought more than one sheet of paper, after all.  
  
\-- It took, in the end, an entire stack. A hundred sheets, thousands of tiny dots scattered along the bottom in a thin line on each. Hundreds of thousands of victims. -- This alone would make that stack worth its weight in... well, it was paper. Its weight in diamonds? Its weight in space, perhaps, in orbit. Even if this proved insufficient to truly bypass the cartel's wards -- and there was a good chance that it would at least give them a location, even if they couldn't just be remotely rescued by teleportation -- just having a checklist, or a self-updating map of the scale of their operations, would be something he'd be proud to turn in to Interpol on its own.  
  
But that wasn't the command he'd given Himari. And _Himari_ would never be satisfied with being merely impressive.  
  
So for a second step, he invoked the systems he controlled, through her. Even as she herself was entirely too focused on other parts of him, still being drained too quickly to act on her desires, the spell she designed kept working under her, without her. The network itself began to map itself onto the paper -- crisp, clear lines at first, the local network that he directly controlled, leaving the gaps and hollows in their structure that outlined in negative space the structure of their authorized users; then starting to blur as it crossed the page, becoming a nearly illegible mess as it crossed between pages. -- After all, they could only truly command 'the interface between the people of the organization and its machinery'; the purely machine-to-machine links, or person-to-person links, were beyond their reach, so if they wished to cross between sites and branches and compounds they were fundamentally reliant on inter-site human accesses that were rather rare and controlled.  
  
But that was fine. Because even the blurry, illegible map he had of their networks would be enough to completely take control of their entire organization, in theory, assuming they didn't notice before it was done. Because the definition of mana was precisely that which made the potentially possible, absolutely real.  
  
And because a criminal organization most definitely didn't trust a single member in it.  
  
\-- In negative space, the networks he controlled outlined the social structure of the compound they'd so quickly defeated. Every guard, every sub-commander, every lieutenant, even the base commander that still hid unknowing in his private quarters --  
  
\-- and then, leaping upwards, _his_ commander, somewhere else.  
  
 _Privilege escalation complete. By that stolen authority --_  
  
He _pulled._  
  
Somewhere, that commander coughed, three drops of heart's blood pulled across space to their map.  
  
And the map surged with light --  
  
\--------------------------------------------------  
  
" _... in breaking news, an international team of investigators from Japan, Israel, and the United States revealed the results of a massive sting operation that had been launched in secret against a number of human trafficking cartels over the past few weeks, releasing literally hundreds of thousands of victims. According to an informant who wishes to remain anonymous, the operation was built on the back of an "incredibly thorough" informant, speculated to be a high-placed traitor in the leadership of the primary cartel. Supporting this theory, no credible source has come forward claiming responsibility for..."_  
  
Kaida watched the news with a smug catlike grin, matched in every way by his pet on the floor by his side. Idly running his hands through her hair, he asked: "By the way, you _did_ do something about all their conditioning, right? I assume that the medical community generally can deal with such things but I don't like leaving loose ends of that scale."  
  
Himari rolled her eyes up at him. "Of course. It was actually incredibly elegant, the way they had layered mundane conditioning and multiple subtle controls to make a single solid whole, but... well, precisely because it was a single solid whole, it could be broken all in one go. I imagine that was even intended, since some of their 'buyers' might prefer unwilling..." She caught the frown Kaida was making and reached up to pat his thigh. "Hey, you made me save them. _All_. It won't be a problem anymore, and the current power vacuum is tempting enough that I guarantee you the U.N. will sign a permit for the use of Astras enforcing it within the week. Nobody's going to be replacing them for a _long_ time."  
  
When he cheered up a little at the thought, she added with a pout, "But I still think you should've kept one. They were so _cute_ , all eager and tranced and climbing over each other to listen to you..."  
  
Kaida flicked her ear, to something between a wince and a moan. "And would they _stay_ that way after you broke the spells on them?"  
  
Himari looked away shiftily. "Probably! Maybe. ... I mean, there's got to be at least one!"  
  
Kaida rolled his eyes, mussing her hair (and making her suddenly gasp, wetness soaking the carpet beneath her). "I think your 'one' is right here. Nobody else is crazy enough to find _that_ fun."  
  
She looked up at him, still pouting, just the slightest hint of expectation in her eyes...  
  
He sighed. "But you know what? You did well. Good girl." Grinning himself as she beamed at the praise, he added, "I think you've earned a reward. Come on."  
  
And, his eager pet at his feet, he made for the bedroom.


End file.
